


Glasses

by heyHEYOhSorry



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: DCCW Rare Pair Swap, Eye doctor AU, F/F, Flashpoint AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 13:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20116192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyHEYOhSorry/pseuds/heyHEYOhSorry
Summary: Caitlin assumed her receptionist wrote the wrong birth year on her patient chart. But when she walks into the room, the woman sitting in the exam chair is certainly not 17-years old.She's got beautiful brown skin and long curled black hair that stops perfectly below her shoulder. She's dressed in form-fitting black jeans, boots with at least 4 inches, and a tight black long-sleeved shirt. She looks sleek. She's also perhaps one of the most beautiful women Dr. Caitlin Snow has ever seen.





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladybubblegum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybubblegum/gifts).

> For ladybubblegum, prompt #3: iris/caitlin, flashpoint au  
I hope you enjoy :)

Dr. Caitlin Snow steps into the waiting room of her Central City ophthalmology practice. A small practice, not nearly as large as the office in Star City she turned down, but what one would expect of a family-owned practice.

The walls were aligned with Toy Story-like sky wallpaper that fit the giant sun light fixture hanging from the ceiling. The furniture in the waiting room was bright, a large red couch, yellow armchairs, a pink tea set on a child-size dining set. A giant pair of green glasses hung over the entryway. It was perfectly cheery for its pediatric patients.

Dr. Snow's practice ran from 9 am - 8 pm sharp Monday to Friday, 12 – 3 pm on Saturdays. This Friday is not a special exception, so Caitlin halts when she sees Mrs. Sanders still seated at the front desk.

"Mrs. Sanders," Caitlin starts, gesturing to clock the minute hand five paces beyond the twelve, the hour hand slightly off the eight.

"Sorry Dr. Snow, but I booked one more patient," Mrs. Saunders, her receptionist responded, although she did not look incredibly sorry at all.

Caitlin fought not to roll her eyes at the elderly woman. When Caitlin first took over her father's pediatric ophthalmology practice (which came with Mrs. Sanders, the 82-year-old receptionist) Mrs. Saunders would book patients until the practice wouldn't close until 9 pm. As Mrs. Sanders would always point out "your father never minded". Something Caitlin couldn't refute based on the glowing reviews of the man, but she wasn't her father.

It was evident her father had loved ophthalmology, and talking to children and people. Everyone in town described him as "the jolly man" not only for his demeanor but because of the Jolly Ranchers he always had on hand for the children in the neighborhood.

"Mrs. Saunders, what have I said about after hour patients," Caitlin prodded, she honestly thought she and Mrs. Saunders had come to this understanding.

"I know, Caity—" Caitlin hated being called ‘Caity' "-- And if it were anyone else I would have said no, but Dr. Stein, the pediatrician on Main Street would consider it a huge favor and he and your father were so close."

Caitlin squeezed the bridge of her nose. That was another thing, her father had loved doing people favors.

"Fine," Dr. Snow says, taking the patient's chart. "But you can head home, I'll lock up."

"Oh good. I told her to wait in Exam Room #3, she's a lovely young lady," Mrs. Sanders said smiling brightly back at Caitlin. As tiresome as the old lady was, Caitlin couldn't help but

"I'm sure she is," Caitlin says. 

//

The chart in front of her says that the patient is 27 years old. Which means Mrs. Sanders probably filled the form out wrong again. Caitlin sighs. Her receptionist was the sweetest old lady Caitlin had ever met. But there was no doubt her eyesight was going.

She quickly took out her pen and corrected the birth year 1991 to 2001, before entering Exam Room #3.

"Hello!" Caitlin greets, as she opens the door to the exam room, her voice set in her "high pitched kid-friendly voice", she was told if she didn't use it she came across cold.

"Hello," responds and equally cheerful voice, but one that certainly does not belong to a 17-year-old. Fitting, because the woman sitting in the exam chair is certainly _not_ 17 years old.

She's got beautiful brown skin and long curled black hair that stops perfectly below her shoulder. She's dressed in form-fitting black jeans, boots with at least 4 inches, and a tight black long-sleeved shirt. She looks sleek. She's also perhaps one of the most beautiful women Caitlin has ever seen.

"Hi?" Caitlin's voice comes out unsure.

"My doctor, Dr. Stein said he called. That you could help me with my prescription emergency," the woman smiles.

Caitlin feels as though her brain is moving slower than normal. "Dr. Stein is your doctor?" Caitlin asks, scrunching her brows.

The woman in front of her can't be a teenager. She can't be. She looks beautiful and kind but more like a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader than one from Central High.

"Aren't you a little old for a pediatrician?" Caitlin asks, walking further into the room and sitting down on the stool. This woman is even more gorgeous close-up.

"About 10 years too old, but Dr. Stein has become a father figure for me and my brother over the years," the woman lets a laugh, dry, but Caitlin doesn't understand the joke. She doesn't think she's supposed to.

"So, umm, can you give me an eye exam?" the woman asks. 

Caitlin could easily refer her to another ophthalmologist. Caitlin knows for a fact Dr. Jefferson's practice is open until 9 pm. It wouldn't be much trouble to call an arrange an appointment.

But it also isn't as though Caitlin _can't _give adults exams.

Plus there is the sad fact that this woman's arrival is probably the most exciting thing to happen since she's arrived in Central City. There isn't much excitement in the today to today of a pediatric ophthalmologist. And as Mrs. Saunders has repeatedly made comments about, Caitlin doesn't have a life outside of this practice.

The only thing this woman is holding Caitlin back from is a bag of pistachios and binge-watching episodes of NCIS.

"Eyes are eyes. As long as you don't mind the decor" Caitlin points to the giant sun with glasses, Mr. Shades on the wall reminding to wear sunglasses to protect your eyes.

She laughs, "No that's not a problem.

"Good. I'm Dr. Snow but you can call me Caitlin," She says stretching out her hand.

"Iris," she replies, grasping Caitlin in a warm handshake. "Thank you, you're my hero today."

It's a little bit of flattery. Caitlin clears her throat, as she takes her hand back and glances down at the patient chart in her lap. "I'll have to check your information. Let me know if something is incorrect," she says.

"Is your full name Iris West?" Caitlin asks.

"Yes," She replies.

"Birthday 9/27/91"

"Yes,"

"Female,"

Iris nods her head.

"Single?" Caitlin asks.

"Unbearably so. Why do you know someone interested?" Iris says her voice light and teasingly.

Caitlin knows that Iris is kidding but she still feels the blush rise up her neck, and strategically looks down at her clipboard.

"That was a joke. Sorry. A really bad one. I mean it's true, I am single but, "Iris says apologizing at what must be Caitlin's obvious discomfort.

"Single. Got it." Caitlin says, continuing to read down the list.

"Insurance Blue Circle?" Caitlin asks, the final question on the paperwork.

"Yes," Iris answers.

"Sorry if I'm a little chatty. I've been doing research all day." Iris says, proudly. "I do some work as a private investigator, but working alone gets, lonely."

It's hard to see this woman, barely five four, as a private investigator. But her occupation would explain the sleek black outfit. It's not a profession you'd automatically guess for a woman who looks like Iris West and her blemish-free skin, long lashes, and perfectly falling hair.

But being lonely is something Caitlin get. She barely ever speaks to an adult other than Mrs. Saunders.

"It's alright. It's nice to have an adult conversation." Caitlin says, smiling.

Iris smiles back. She has a nice smile.

"I'm going to start with a basic cover test," Caitlin stands up to close the door. "Just to see where to start with specs,"

She crosses the room to set up the target before returning to Iris with a plastic eye cover in her hand.

"Can you cover your left eye and read that sign on the door?" Caitlin asks.

Iris takes a deep breath and squints her eyes.

"7-9-9-4"

"And the line below," Caitlin says, jotting down in her notes.

"4- 2 – 0 – 9"

"And now your right eye," Caitlin says.

"Oh god, umm. 2-9-3-1"

"And the 3rd line from the bottom," Caitlin asks

"7-5-2-1"

"So what counts as an eye prescription emergency?" Caitlin asks, setting up the phoropter.

Iris sighs and leans back into the chair. "I'm trying to become a reporter. I don't just want to investigate cheating husbands, I want to break stories, uncover drug busts, you know?" Iris says with enthusiasm. "I have my first tv opportunity with Channel 4 CCPN next week. And on run-throughs yesterday I couldn't read the cue cards."

"I guess that does count as an eye prescription emergency," Caitlin says.

Iris is beautiful enough for tv. Gleaming smile. Caitlin intrusive thought that Iris West would be lovely to see first thing in the morning

"So, How'd I do, doc?" Iris asks, with all the optimism as her 5-year-old patients.

"Well, not great. Especially considering those are letters on that door,"

Caitlin can't help but break the news with a small smile when she sees Iris's shocked face. It's kinda cute.

"You're kidding!" Iris gasps.

"Really."

"My brother's been teasing me for years. He's even started calling me Rhinocer-iris, but I never thought my eyesight was this bad." Iris says, her mouth still open in disbelief.

"For years?" Caitlin murmurs, flipping through Iris's file before stopping on the last page.

"Iris, your record shows that you've been written a prescription before. Why don't you wear glasses?" Caitlin asks. She moves to prepare the phoropter into place to test refraction.

Caitlin watches as Iris's smile disappears and shadow of aching and shame casts over her face. It's not the response Caitlin expected from her somewhat routine question.

Iris sighs, "It's going to sound stupid."

Caitlin waits, silently encouraging Iris to continue.

"My father, he's a detective, and for the longest time, I wanted to be one too. But um, he didn't like that. He wanted me to go into finance or something I could make money. So anytime he could he would list off all the reasons I wasn't qualified to be a detective. I was "too short", "too weak", "too kind", "too soft" etc." Iris says.

"So when I found out I needed glasses in 10th grade, I immediately imagined all the insults in my head, and decided that getting glasses wasn't worth it."

"But that was years ago, and even though he basically blacklisted me from the CCPD, I got my PI license, and soon I'll be a reporter and I'll be tracking down the same wanted people as the CCPD, except it'll be doing it on my terms and I'll be better." Iris asserts.

"Sorry, that was a lot. As I said, the reason is stupid," Iris professes.

Caitlin furrows her brows before shaking her head, "No it's not."

And when Iris giver her weak smile, Caitlin assures her.

"It's brave to be a private inspector, to follow your dreams, to go out on your own."-and then more softly- "I don't think I could be that brave."

When had Caitlin ever stood up to her parents? Caitlin thinks about her mother and how she forced her into medical school when all she wanted was to get her Ph.D. in advance chemistry. And then she thinks about her dead father, and how he saddled her with this practice without a single card, a single call, a single care to she wanted in life.

At least Iris was doing something she loved, something she wanted.

"We're going to get you glasses," Caitlin states. "You're going to read those cue cards, and you'll be a great reporter, " Caitlin affirms.

She doesn't know much about this woman, but she knows she deserves to have her dreams come true. Iris West deserves that.

The refraction test is a process of precise trial and error. Caitlin has Iris look through the phoropter and let her know which lens make the font at the end look clearer.

"Better or worse," Caitlin asks, adjusting the dial.

"Worse,"

Pause. Readjust the lens.

"Which is clearer, this, this, or this?" Caitlin asks.

"Umm, the second one," Iris answers.

Pause. Readjust.

"Do you like being an ophthalmologist?" Iris asks.

_Does she like saying_,_ "read the letters" "which looks clearer" "is this better or worse" for 58 hours a week?_

"Yes, the hours are great for when I want to start a family," she says it before she realizes, and blames her mother for the prepared answer that comes dribbling from her lips

"Oh, are you married?" Iris asks.

Caitlin is glad that Iris can't see her bright red face from behind the phoropter.

It's a reasonable question to her bullshit answer. The one her mother repeated over and over while convincing Caitlin to travel 2000 miles away. _"You'll be able to give me some grandbabies" _and how ridiculous is it to prepare for the family she's going to have even though she's not married, not seeing someone, and hasn't even been on a date in two years.

Caitlin is a single as Iris. What had she said? "_Unbearably so."_

"No, I'm currently not seeing anyone but, one day," Caitlin answers.

Caitlin switches the lens, "Better or worse,"

"Better. So, does working with children mean you want to have kids?"

"With the right person. You?"

Iris nods, "Definitely, but I've always been a romantic. The type to believe in whirlwind romance, love at first sight, knowing from the moment you meet the right person."

The confessions make Caitlin flush and she wonders if Iris is purposefully using ‘person' to encompass all genders as well.

"Do you believe in that stuff," Iris asks.

She's never really thought about it. How sad, she's never really thought about romance at all.

"I don't know," Caitlin responds.

Pause. Readjust.

"Option 1, 2, or 3?" Caitlin asks, turning the dial.

"Option 3. Did you always want to be a pediatric ophthalmologist?" and then she quickly adds "Sorry, if I'm asking too many questions. Habit."

Caitlin shrugs because she doesn't mind. No, that's a lie because she usually does hate the constant inquiries into her life. But Iris just shared her history with her father and told Caitlin about her dreams, and Caitlin feels like she should reciprocate that honesty.

Caitlin removes the phoropter takes a deep breath.

"Growing up I always wanted to be a biochemist," Caitlin replies. Even when all the other kids wanted to be actors and firefighters, Caitlin was mixing baking soda and vinegar entranced with the chemical reaction.

"When did you want to be an ophthalmologist?" Iris asks, her head tilt.

"I don't think I ever have," Caitlin confesses.

She hasn't said that out loud before. And definitely not to another person. But it's true, and just saying once has lightened a load she didn't know she weighing her down.

"Hmm," Iris ponders. "Well, in that case, I think you should be a biochemist," Iris announces. As though it's as simple as choosing a new pair of shoes.

"And what about my practice?" Caitlin comments. She means to communicate sarcasm but it's either lost on Iris or she chooses to ignore it.

Iris shrugs. "Find someone who's always wanted to be an ophthalmologist," Iris says.

When Iris says it sounds easy. Like Caitlin actually could. As though this wasn't her father's only living legacy and that she could just give it all up and walk away from it and all the expectations it comes with.

"I can't. This was my father's practice," Caitlin laments.

"Did you know him?" Caitlin ask. If Iris had been going to Dr. Stein for years maybe she had grown up knowing her father.

Iris nods, "I did."

"I didn't. I had just finished medical school when I got a letter saying a man named Dr. Thomas Snow had passed and that he left me this practice. My mother knew, of course."

Which had hurt, to spend her entire life with zero information about her father, when her mother had been corresponding with him throughout the years. That she had been pushing her to be a doctor for this purpose.

"I'm not like him," Caitlin's never admitted that either.

She wasn't. Despite having his half his genes and even if she were to dress up in his signature red suspenders and hand out candy, she wasn't like him. Something made painfully obvious since she arrived and to the disappointment of Mrs. Saunders and the people around town.

Iris soft smile, "So? Perhaps I'm biased because of my own Daddy issues, but I don't think there's anything wrong with not being who are parents wanted. Plus, you're a lot hotter than your dad," Iris jokes.

It's exactly what Caitlin needs. She feels validated, seen, light, and happy. And she wonders what Iris can see it all on her face. If that joy is reflecting through her eyes. She hopes that it does. Because she can't put this feeling of gratitude in words, but she hopes this stranger knows _she's _the reason for it.

//

Iris has Myopia or nearsightedness.

She can read books and newspapers and anything when it's in front of her face. But more than 6 feet away most objects turn into a blur.

"I don't carry many adult frames," Caitlin apologizes opening the small display cabinet. It's mostly filled with small child-sized frames, Sesame Street print, Paw Patrol, and Peppa Pig are the recent favorites. But Caitlin does keep a small box of adult frames towards the back.

The box only has 5 options.

"Good thing you're pretty," the words are out her mouth.

How many times has Caitlin blushed red around this woman?

Iris is stifling a laugh.

"Fuck, this is why I work with children," Caitlin says.

Iris laughs, "I know what you're trying to say. Thank you."

Iris decides to save her, and reaches down to pick on a pair, "Which to try first?"

Turns out Caitlin is right. Iris does look amazing with each pair.

The first pair makes her look like a naughty sexy librarian. The second pair a sexy secretary.

The third round thick frame glasses make her look like a sexy Harry Potter. By the time Iris tries on the thin wire aviator glasses that make Iris look like a sexy serial killer, Caitlin is starting to believe that the sexy has nothing to do with the frames and all to do with Iris.

The last pair are simple, black acetate, rectangle shape, the temple are a dark magenta for a pop of color.

"What do you think?" Iris asks, bashfully.

She looks professional, she looks confident, and alluring, and poised.

"Those are the ones," Caitlin notes that it comes out more of a whisper, so full of awe. And for the first time, Iris blushes.

_This feels like a date._ Perhaps it's because they're in her office alone. Or that the sun is starting to set and the golden hour lightening on Iris West, the warms her brown skin.

Just to pound down the fact that Caitlin Snow truly has never seen anyone so beautiful.

Caitlin's aware that she's staring slightly too long, but Iris is staring right back.

"I can have your glasses ready by Sunday," Caitlin says, disrupting the moment. She needs to keep her head about her.

"Oh, thank you," Iris replies.

"Are you headed out now or—" Iris trails off.

It feels like an opening that maybe Iris West wants to spend more time with her. It's only a little past 9 pm on a Friday. There are plenty of places open they could get a drink or something. She could talk to this woman for an entire night and not be the least bit bored.

"I should finish this paperwork," Caitlin excuses instead.

Caitlin watches Iris's smile fall.

"But I'll see you Sunday," she adds, hoping that she hasn't ruined whatever bond they built tonight.

"Of course," Iris says.

Later Caitlin sits at her desks and wonders why she never dares to go after what she wants.

** // **

It's Tuesday when Iris comes back to pick up her glasses.

"oh, she's been asking about you all the time" Caitlin overhears Mrs. Saunders say as she walks down the hallway to the waiting room.

"Has she?" Iris asks, raising an eyebrow at Caitlin as soon as she crosses the doorway.

Iris is leaning against the counter talking to Mrs. Saunders. Today is a different look from last Friday. She looks shorter in white tennis shoes, a floral mini skirt, and a loose fashionable white tee. Far more casual but not at all less attractive. Caitlin thinks that there are many sides to Iris West, and then she has the sneaking thought that she would love to learn them all.

"Yes, you've made quite the impression. Perhaps you could take her out. I keep telling her that she should get out more. I think having a girl friend might be good for her," Mrs. Saunders blabs.

Dr. Snow tries and fails to not choke on Mrs. Saunders' words. She's sure the old lady doesn't understand the other implications of her words.

From the smirk on Iris's face, she knows exactly why Caitlin's coughing.

"Mrs. Sanders." Dr. Snow, says once she's collected herself, "Could you prepare in Exam room #2?"

Caitlin turns around to shoot her receptionist a look saying, "_Can you please not discuss me with my patients"_

Mrs. Saunders scurries away and once again it's just Caitlin and Iris.

Part of Caitlin thought that Friday wasn't real. That she had made up the conversations and feeling and the looks. But when she looks at Iris she feels that tension in her stomach and the increased flutter of her heart.

"Sorry about Mrs. Saunders. For my receptionist she's pretty set on running my life," Caitlin jokes "she tries to get me to go out with every single Dad."

"And what about the single moms," Iris says with interest, teasingly.

Iris smiles, "So, you've been waiting for me?".

_Was Iris this flirty on Friday?_

"I wanted you to be prepared for your interview," Caitlin replies.

"That's sweet of you," Iris says. "But I already got the job. Turns out you need even _fewer _brains for the job than I thought,"

"You'll show them how talented you are," She finds herself saying like she's known this woman for more 2hrs.

"Anyway, these are your new glasses," Caitlin announces, handing Iris the black glasses case off Mrs. Saunders' desk.

"Thanks," Iris says with a coy smile. At this point, Iris must be fairly aware of what she's doing to Caitlin.

"Wow," Iris says staring around the room in amazement. "Oh my, it's like a brand new world," Iris gleams.

Caitlin's thought a lot about Iris's smile over the weekend. She's thought a lot about Iris period. She thought about their conversations and the things she wanted to say. Stuff like, "thank you for listening to me" and then "why did you?". Caitlin wonders if Iris has thought about her too. If this small infatuation is reciprocated.

Caitlin could just ask her. Now, when Mrs. Saunders is still away. She should just gather the courage and ask Iris out to coffee. Because if she lets this woman disappear without putting herself out there, Caitlin knows she'll regret it for the rest of her life.

"Iris," Caitlin says, taking a step closer.

"Make sure to wear them when you're driving, and during your investigations. A private investigator should-- you should be safe," Caitlin says.

"I will. Thank you, Dr. Snow"

"You can call me Caitlin."

"Thank you, Caitlin."

And that's it. Because the Palmer family and their four kids enter, and in the chaos Caitlin watches Iris slip out the door and onto the Central City sidewalk. And unlike last time Caitlin doesn't know when she'll see her again. Odds are she won't. And Caitlin berates herself.

_Why can't she go after the things she wants?_

//

She doesn't call Iris. She wants to, she has her number on file. There's even an opportunity to when she needs to clarify something for Iris's insurance company.

"Here's her number," Mrs. Saunders had said as she handed Caitlin a small piece of paper. There had been a twinkle in her eye, and a smile on her face as though she finally understands, so perhaps Mrs. Saunders isn't as clueless after all.

But she doesn't, she gets the answer from Dr. Stein instead.

It's been 3 weeks. And every night since she goes to bed wondering why she hasn't called. Sometimes she's angry at herself for sabotaging her own happiness, for not being _brave _to see where they could have gone.

She shouldn't be thinking this much about a woman she barely knows. If Iris West could have her this fixated from a conversation that took place during an eye exam, imagine how much damage Iris could do to Caitlin's life.

But part of her knows that the damage has already been done.

Caitlin tries to go back to her day-to-day. She greets the children in her "happy voice", asks them to read the letters, asks them which is clearer, it's the routine that she did for two years. But now it's not enough. It's as though there's been a shift within her. And the life that was made for her, the one that Caitlin had convinced she was content feels empty.

She wishes she could see Iris again.

//

"Would you believe me if I said I was here to pick out a glasses case?" a voice greets her, late one Friday night.

Caitlin turns around swiftly.

When she heard the door open she expected it to be Mrs. Saunders back to retrieve something she left. She's not expecting Iris West.

But it's Iris. Standing in her waiting room in ass-grabbing blue jeans, black boots, and a leather jacket. Most importantly, Iris is wearing the black-rimmed glasses and it fills Caitlin with a need to reach out to this gorgeous stranger and kiss her.

"Hi," Caitlin says instead.

"I was really hoping you'd call," Iris says, walking into the room stopping two feet away from Caitlin. "But when you didn't I figured you weren't interested. Then I thought maybe I wasn't clear enough, maybe I was too subtle. That I should have walked in on Tuesday in a flannel shirt waving a rainbow flag," Iris waves a fist in the air.

"So, I thought I'd be more straight forward and just ask," Iris says. "Would you like—"

"—No, " Caitlin cuts her off.

"Sorry, I just. I don't want you to ask me out. I want to ask you out. I've been wanting to ask you out since the first night we met and I just, I don't know, couldn't find the courage." Caitlin says.

"It hardly counts because you came to me, but I think I should start taking ownership of my life. And umm," Caitlin explains.

"Iris, I've thought about you so much. I _think_ about you all the time," Caitlin confesses.

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Iris West?" Caitlin asks.

Maybe to Iris Caitlin's just asking her on a date, but Caitlin feels as though she's offering up her heart. And it goes against all the logic, and all the lifelong planning that her mother would approve, but Caitlin is prepared to hand it over.

"Yes," Iris says, soft and encouraging.

One little word shouldn't make Caitlin feel so powerful. But it does. The warmth spreads from her heart down to the tips of her fingers and that weight, the one she didn't know existed until Iris, eases.

As Caitlin closes their remaining distance, she thinks back to Iris's comment about whirlwind romances and kisses her.


End file.
